Bruised Ego
by Pheo
Summary: A simple misunderstanding... Response to the weekly Unbound Improv Fanfic Challenge. First and last lines are provided with a 1,000 word limit. GSR.


Bruised Ego

by Pheo

3.5.05

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Summary: Response to the weekly Improv challenge at the Unbound forums. First and last lines are provided, with a maximum of 1,000 words in between. This is completely goofy, kind of fluffy, and should not be read by anyone.

Spoilers: Unbearable

Rating: G

**"It wasn't that dark yesterday..." she whispered, the concern showing clearly in her eyes.** Sara pulled up his T-shirt sleeve higher, revealing an angry-looking purple bruise.

"Ah... It's nothing," Grissom murmured, gazing at her over his glasses.

"Grissom, I really am sorry," she said again, replacing the ice pack that she'd brought with her. He winced at its coldness but continued to watch her take care of him.

She hadn't really meant to hurt him. Okay, maybe she had a bit of a motive, but really, it had been an accident. Mostly.

They had been manuevering a dummy around in the layout room, trying to re- create a sketchy crime scene. She had been reluctant to work with him in the first place, and when they'd met up at the restaurant where the body had been foundin separate carshe had mirrored her own reluctance, keeping a frosty distance the entire time.

When arriving back at the lab, he had stode off to find the dummy, leaving her behind. Scowling, she had no choice but to follow.

She cooly watched her boss struggle with the dummy, arms crossed, and finally offered to help him out as he yanked it this way and that in sporadic, awkward motions.

He didn't offer a thanks, just a mere signature eyebrow- raise, and continued to twist the dummy's limbs at strange angles.

Inwardly growling, but swearing to remain professional, Sara kneeld down, helping him shape the "re- creation."After twisting it in countless directions, Sara had decided to put it on the table to adjust its height.

"This way, Grissom, he was found slouched slouched over the dinner table," she insisted, flopping "Bert" over the table head-first.

"Yes, but I don't think that was how it happened," Grissom replied, pulling Bert back towards the floor.

"He was head-first in his mound of mashed cowflesh, we should start there."

Grissom gave a tug, sticking his tongue in his cheek. "Oh, so maybe his date was a vegetarian? She killed him because of his eating habits?"

She rolled her eyes and looked up to see him grinning at her. She yanked on Bert, grating out, "Maybe she had other reasons."

He raised his eyebrows. "Like?"

She gave another huff. "There are hundreds, Grissom. Maybe he was a jerk to her." She jerked Bert around again, as if demonstrating her point.

"Maybe he said all the wrong things." She gave the dummy a twist.

"Maybe he took out other girls behind her back." She slammed Burt into the table, causing his arms to fly up over his head. "Yeah, this looks right."

Grissom gave her a long look. "That doesn't look right at all," he said firmly.

She crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at him.

"He probably protected her by being a jerk," he said pointedly, grabbing the dummy out of the seat. Refusing to meet her eyes, he began to move it back to the position he'd had before.

"Maybe he didn't know the right things to say." He kneeled, focusing on moving the dummy face- down on the floor.

"Maybe he took out other girls for good reasons." He finally looked up at her, surprised to find her fuming.

"And maybe he had faulty reasoning!" Sara smashed her hands down on the table, forgetting about its wheels. It screeched forward, jamming Grissom's upper arm in the process.

"Oh my god, Grissom! Are you alright?" Sara moved toward him, one hand over her mouth and the other reaching toward him. He coninued to crouch, wincing, and finally glared at her.

"If I were any better, I'd be twins!" he hissed, clutching his arm. "Why don't you go see if Doc has the tox screen back on our vic!"

"But Grissom"

"We need those results now!" he snapped, standing up. "I have this!"

She nodded, making her way toward the door. She turned. "I'm sorry."

"So am I," he told her retreating back, glancing at his quickly bruising arm. "So am I."

"Well, you were right," he told her, intently watching as she knelt by his arm. "The guy was poisoned. Seemed like his girlfriend caught him with another woman and paid a waiter off to poison his soup."

She looked up to give him an "I- told- you-so" glare, but quickly looked back down to her task after seeing the fixation in his face. "A woman scorned," she finally said, her throat dry.

"Yes, but Brass checked and discovered that the woman he'd been with was just a coworker. His paralegal, in fact. They'd been working a case. We found the files in her briefcase at the scene." He shivered as her fingers wrapped lightly around his arm, moving the ice pack to cover the rest of the bruise.

She bit her lip, continuing to apply pressure. "So maybe we both right?"

He tilted his head, grinning at her. "Maybe."

"Ah, Griss, I really am sorry about this. Does it hurt that much?"

He watched her concered expression and suddenly knew what it was like for those men who had women to kiss their boo-boos.

"Oh, it bothers me a bit," he sighed, wincing for affect.

"Awww, poor Grissom," she murmured instinctively, melting his heart. "Just keep this in place, okay?"

He nodded at her pitifully.

She bit her lip. "Can I get you anything?" Her eyes called a truce with him, and he took it.

"You know, I could use something to eat. You wanna go pick us up a couple of salads from the deli?" He fished out a twenty from his pocket, handing it to her.

She smiled. "Sure, Griss. Anything else?"

"How about one of those chocolate donuts? With the sprinkles on it?"

She raised an eyebrow at him, tapping her foot.

"Maybe some good coffee? The kind Greg makes?"

"Grissom!"

"And then maybe you do some of my paperwork. With my arm and all..."

"Grissom! I don't believe you! You're actually using my sympathy"

He pouted at her, his eyes innocent.

She shook her head. "Whatever, Griss. I'll go get your saladand I'll tell them to hold the poison, _this_ time." She turned to leave him, and **she shook her head as the chuckles emanated from the room.**


End file.
